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There’s something I can’t say
Something bothering my mind
Where’s this going? it asks
Churns, burns, turns in circles.

I can’t be her, all the time
it’s too risky, too threatening
too much of you
squeezes me like a dishcloth.

This vacuum, this nothing, this pause
Is it good? you ask.
Yes, yes, I say,
not knowing, at all.

This innate knowing
I don’t know it, don’t recognize
this trust, this guidance
– where’s its leading light?

I’m thinking it got lost
on its journey here
caught up in thoughts
entangled in minds
stuck to sticky words.

It’s the silence, I’m missing
the loneliness, that scares me
the lost path, that I crave.
I wonder, when I find it:
Will I know?

Perhaps what I crave is just more of the same.

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